Satin in a Coffin
by 9aza
Summary: Karen Keeny during and post Year One Scarecrow. Warning: Did not come out like I wanted it to.


A/N: Aw crap, I came back to the Batman archive with another fanfic.

This type of story has been on my mind for a while and for the longest time I always hoped someone would write it. Unfortunately, it never really happened to the degree I wanted it to. I mean I would find a good story featuring Karen Keeny, but it never fulfilled what I wanted. Now thanks to inspiration from TheLOAD's ficlet _Kick _(h t t p : / / theload. deviantart. com/ art/Kick- 283677897), I decided that to give it a try. You don't have to read her story, but it does help explain Karen's feelings in this story.

You can blame Obscurus Lupa and her review of _Subspecies 2_ for the title.

Also a final note, most of the dialogue (and first two scenes) was taken from Year One: Scarecrow.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman franchise, neither do I own the following song mentioned.

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><p>"Are you dead or are you sleepin'?" - <em>Satin in a Coffin<em>, Modest Mouse

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><p><strong>Satin in a Coffin<strong>

Karen Keeny screamed in agony on the large bed in the master bedroom. Over her screams Granny Keeny ordered the young woman to push while Karen's mother -Marion- called her a whore and other such names. She ignored Marion's words and pushed. She wanted her child out, wanted her child to breathe, wanted to take her child away from this horrible house and these cruel women. Karen will pack some of her things and leave with her newborn tonight.

This child won't go through the abuse she grew up with.

With one more push the infant was out. For several tense moments, the room was silent except for Karen's panting. Finally the child let out a weak cry, much to the new mother's relief. Her baby hadn't paid for her past mistakes with it's life.

Her child _can_ and _will_ be saved.

Karen allowed herself to collapse back onto the bed and listened to her mother and grandmother speak.

"Such a _spindly_ little spider," Granny Keeny observed.

Marion retorted, "Wonder it's even breathing considering the _drug-polluted_ source."

Karen winced at her mother's oh-so-true comment and felt guilt form in the pit of her stomach.

"-And the child's future?" the eldest Keeny asked.

Marion's lips curled in disgust at the child before her and she turned from it saying, "**Bury** it, Mother. Back there in your atrium. I never want to speak of it again."

Karen's eyes widened at her mother's proclamation of her child's death. "Mother, you can't-!" Her mother's steel glare silenced Karen. Desperate, she turned to her grandmother, but was only faced with a look of indifference.

"We can't have you ruin the Keeny name any more than you have, Karen," Marion stated and with that, exited the room.

Granny Keeny then stood up with the crying, fluid-covered infant in her arms and walked towards the door.

"Granny, please!" the young woman begged. "Don't kill him!"

The old woman paid her no mind and left the room, locking the door behind her. Karen covered her face and broke down into sobs. Coming from outside she could hear the back door open and shut and her mother's car start up and drive away.

She didn't save her child and all because she was too weak and scared to stop a fail old woman from walking away.

She was coward. Nothing but a coward.

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><p>"I never <em>saw<em> any deed!" Karen cried as her husband, Charlie, pulled out a gun. _Oh God, he's actually going to do it! He's going to kill me!_

"Then I guess this bye-b-"

Charlie was cut off mid-sentence as another man spoke, "She's right you know... There is no deed, spent my whole childhood looking for it!"

Charlie collapsed, a knife protruding his back. Karen stared wide-eyed at the other man, who was dressed like a scarecrow, picking up the dropped gun. She listened to him speak, but her mind didn't seem to register his words until he said, "It's your baby boy, Mother. Jonathan?"

It all clicked then. The child she didn't save all those years ago, Granny didn't kill him! No she didn't, but it was obvious that that decrepitated old woman had damaged him.

Now he was going to make her pay for being weak...

"And what have we here?" Jonathan asked, looking at the crib that held a blonde infant with the corner of his eye. Karen saw the look in his eyes change, they were mad eyes. As mad as Granny's were. "Oh dear..." he murmured.

She instantly knew where this was headed. "NO! Please!" _Kill me instead!_ She wanted to scream, but didn't.

Jonathan aimed the gun at his napping half-sister and said with underlying bitterness, "That's the trouble with a bad seed, isn't it mother? It just grows on and on..."

Karen knew she had to do something! Anything! But there was one problem, she was too scared to even move.

The moment Jonathan was about to pull the trigger time seemed to slow down, and the gun was forced out of his hand by some sort of sharp boomerang that was - strangely enough - shaped like a bat. Suddenly, a man dressed like a bat appeared and attacked Jonathan, knocking him away from the sleeping infant.

The bat man grabbed the gun off the floor as Jonathan got back up and demanded that he give it back to him. Then to Karen's shock, the bat man looked like he was actually going to give Jonathan the gun. He was speaking nonsense, calling Jonathan 'Father' and apologizing to him. It didn't make any sense to the Georgia woman.

"Tried...Father... Tried... Wasn't fast...enough," he muttered.

"Don't! He'll kill all of us!" she screamed, hoping to get through to him. _What's wrong with you?_

"He _can't_ help it, Mother dear," Jonathan stated, "He's_ compelled_. Aren't you, old bat?"

She ignored him and kept trying to get the bat man out of his delusion. "Please," she begged him, "snap out of it!"

"Real trauma, you see, beings in our youth!" he continued. He then froze, as if he heard someone speak and a look of pure terror emerged on his face. Jonathan started grabbing at the air, as if trying to stop something from getting any closer.

The bat man lost his submissive demeanor and became the confident man he was before. He explained that he had altered Jonathan's spray so that it would only affect him and used the air conditioner to distribute it into the air. Meanwhile, Jonathan tried to fight off his invisable demons, but was failing miserably. "NO! Can't stand it!" he screamed as he ran out of the house.

"W-where is he going?" Karen asked the bat man. He didn't answer her question, instead his eyes widened when he realized that Jonathan was running straight toward the cliff that marked the end of Charlie's property. Before the bat man reached the door it was too late; Jonathan had fallen into the roaring river below.

The bat man sighed and turned to Karen. "You don't have to be afraid of me," he said.

Karen laughed, "Afraid?" Now why would she be afraid of the man who saved her and her daughter's lives? If anything, she should give him something for all his trouble! And she did, for the next thing the bat man knew, she was kissing him.

She was just so grateful to be alive.

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><p>The weather was sweltering on the day of Charlie's funeral. It was a small and very simple funeral, with Karen, her daughter, the priest, and the grave diggers being the only ones present. None of Charlie's co-workers or family bothered to show up. Not that she could blame them, everyone in town knew Charlie was an agressive lout who didn't get along with most people.<p>

When the priest finished his sermon, he looked towards Karen, as though expecting her to say something in Charlie's memory. She remained silent as the coffin was lowered into the grave. Behind her solemn expression were not thoughts of how she would miss Charlie; no, far from it. Deep down she was glad that he was dead, but her relief that that bastard would never touch her again wasn't the only thing on her mind.

Karen thought about what had happened after Charlie's murder and Jonathan's... When the bat man and his young side kick left after confirming that she and her little girl were alright, the police arrived and began their investigation.

For several hours the police questioned her, not believing her story of how a man dressed like a bat saved her from another man dressed as a scarecrow. Some of them thought she was high when the murder occurred, which to them was probable considering her drug-filled past. Others thought _she_ was Charlie's killer, especially when they noticed the bruises her tank-top and skirt couldn't hide. They kept her at the station until they confirmed that the fingerprints on the knife weren't hers, but she was still a suspect in their eyes. Eventually the police left her alone when they traced the fingerprints to a now deceased racketeer who went by the moniker Scarecrow.

She never told them that the Scarecrow was her son.

Afterwards, Karen became curious and wanted to learn more about her son; to do so, she decided to return to Arlen, Georgia after so many years. She avoided most of the people in the town and went straight to the only high school in Arlen. Once there, she spoke to the principal, an older man on the cusp of retirement after forty years working in the educational system.

The principal had much to say about Jonathan, telling her how intelligent he was and how his test scores were the highest of his class. It was such a shame that the poor boy had trouble making friends.

This piqued Karen's curiosity.

He went on to tell her that Jonathan was mostly a loner during his high school years, and was, unfortunately, a bully-magnet. Though, there was a time during his senior year where it seemed like he was getting along with another student, a Miss Sherry Squires, but whatever friendship that could've developed from that was tragically ruined when she was killed in a car accident on prom night.

Karen mulled over this new information. She wasn't surprised that Jonathan was a loner, growing up with Granny had that effect, but what really surprised her was just how smart he was. From what the principal told her, Jonathan could've made something of himself. He never once touched drugs nor did he allow the bullying to force him to conform, in a way, he was stronger than Karen was at that age. Hell, he was stronger then than Karen was now.

She thanked the principal and went on to her next destination: Keeny Manor.

Karen stood on the front porch for God knows how long before she gained the nerve to open the door. It has been decades since the last time she stepped foot in this house. Karen didn't think it was possible, but the manor looked even more run-down now than in her memories. The wallpaper was peeling, there were rats scurrying around, and there were cobwebs everywhere she turned. She tried to ignore it all and went upstairs to search for Jonathan's room.

It didn't take her long to find it. Karen couldn't help but smile faintly at the giant teddy bear and the floral curtains and wallpaper. Granny gave Jonathan Karen's old room. On the dresser she saw a couple of toys a boy would normally play with; there were some worn clothes in a couple of the drawers and a small coat in the closet, but nothing else.

With a sigh, Karen went downstairs to the parlour and noticed an old photograph of Granny and Jonathan as a young boy as well as a black journal next to it. She picked up the journal and began to read it. An hour into the book she dropped it in horror and disgust. She had learned how her grandmother would punish Jonathan for his and Karen's "sins."

How could Granny do this? He was just a little boy! It wasn't his fault that she made a mess of her life!

She felt like she was suffocating in that old house and ran outside for some air. Panting, she noticed in the corner of her eye the old church in the back and she shuddered, the crawing of crows and the screams of a little boy echoing in her mind.

Karen left Arlen soon after and didn't look back.

The priest and the grave diggers were long gone by the time Karen finally allowed herself to cry on Charlie's grave. She would never mourn Charlie, that was a fact, but she would mourn his killer. She will cry for Jonathan and his destroyed innocence, because it was her fault that he was corrupted by a madwoman.

She will cry for him because no one else will.

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><p>AN: I don't like this story very much, but hey, I gave it a shot. I should probably stick to writing introspective pieces on evil giant alien robots.

Anyways, if you did like this story, then please review.


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